


黄

by dearwinter



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, ambiguous switching of pov, it's just sad, lapslock, lots of metaphors and symbolism, the color yellow, the members are there but it is mostly taeho centric, the slightest of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-03-29 17:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19024642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearwinter/pseuds/dearwinter
Summary: irl juho has a song for irl taeyang called 赤 (red), but this one's 黄 (yellow).(or: juho forgets all happy memories. taeyang only has sad ones to remember.)





	黄

**Author's Note:**

> hi everybody! if you have been following my works so far, you'd notice the tag #fluff somewhere in all of them. you might think i'm not into writing heartbreaking content but surprise! #angst is actually my favourite! 
> 
> so this is a self-indulgent 9.5k word taeho angst fic.
> 
> it’s sad. maybe it’s a bit happy, but it’s mostly sad. also there’s smut but like only a paragraph and it’s not descriptive. just meant for plot sake. it’s pretty rushed in the beginning too but it gets better in the middle, i promise.
> 
> disclaimer: all medical facts, if present, are purely based on what i know, what i have experienced, and what i have researched. i am very sorry if there are mistakes.
> 
> that's it ♡ and i hope you have tissues or some pillows prepared for comfort ;-;

taeyang can’t really remember the first time he met juho. he knows he should, considering everything that happened, but he can’t.  
  
he knows that it was at the coffee shop by the university library, but he can’t remember if it was on a thursday or a friday. it couldn’t have been a weekend because he definitely remembers going to that boring anthropology class before and he knows it was probably in the afternoon; he remembers the musky orange sunset and how they matched the falling, autumn leaves. he remembers awkward introductions that progressed into shy giggles and smiles. but he can’t really remember the specifics; like what drink he had, the exact words they spoke to each other.

what he does remember the most though, is the color _yellow_. it was bright. and he felt happy.  
  
his memory wasn’t always the best. maybe he needed to download those memory games onto his phone. maybe that’s was what juho should have done too.

☼

taeyang doesn’t really remember the first time he met juho. but he does remember the first time he met juho.  
  
it was at hwiyoung’s place during christmas. he’d known juho for a while now, they weren’t acquaintances anymore but they definitely weren’t close. he was just hwiyoung’s old friend from gyeonggi-do who he was introduced to that one afternoon. taeyang saw him a few times after that day, but conversations were kept to a simple _‘how’s life’_ and they never happened without the presence of their mutual friend. taeyang was shy and so was juho, not much could come besides small conversations even if they wanted to.  
  
his seven friends, and juho, were all staying in seoul for the winter holidays. none of them really had the money to go back home, thanks to the crippling debt that comes with higher education. and deep down, they all wanted to spend time together, even if it meant sacrificing their mother’s homecooked meal for instant ramen and pizza.

the night started out slow. taeyang had been in a bad mood to begin with, following a phone call with his parents that spiraled into an argument. he didn’t really want to be there, but he figured if it was anyone who could cheer him up, it was his friends. so he goes. he doesn’t regret it.

bottles of soju were brought out, beer too, and after a few hours all of them were pretty out of it. youngbin, the assigned leader of the group, was on his phone showing rowoon pictures of his puppy that taeyang couldn’t remember the name of. inseong and dawon were arguing over which dinosaur could win in a fight, a t-rex or broncosaurus. jaeyoon was nowhere in sight, probably retching in the toilet since he was never one to drink well. chani passed out on the couch and hwiyoung was dozing off next to him, stroking the former’s cheek softly. taeyang watches, sitting on the armchair, mind a comfortable buzz from the alcohol in his system. he doesn’t really like getting drunk. he doesn’t like how it makes his body feel heavy and doesn’t like how it feels like he’s moving one second slower than the rest of the world. but he does like this kind of drunk. the mellow kind—the kind that’s relaxing and soft, that makes him feel like he’s floating rather than sinking.  
  
bored with watching, taeyang gets up from the chair, stumbling as he does. his head is starting to feel a dull ache so he walks towards the balcony to get some fresh air, doing his best to keep his movements slow and sure. a cold breeze welcomes him as he opens the door. the sky looks pretty. its stars twinkling amongst a bright moon and the han river reflection of it makes the night look instantly brighter. he steps forward to the railing, extending his arms out, closing his eyes and just feeling the night. it’s euphoric.  
  
the door suddenly shuts behind him and taeyang jumps. losing balance, his body leans forwards and if it wasn’t for two strong arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him back, taeyang would’ve probably fallen right off the balcony. taeyang and the body behind him fall to the ground from the force of pulling him back. they land with a small _‘oof’_ whilst taeyang lands on a warm body and he lets out a giggle.  
  
“fuck. be careful. you could’ve died.”  
  
taeyang lets out a hum, closing his eyes. the arms are still around his waist, enveloping him and his voice is soft and low, making him want to doze off that second, cuddled with a cold breeze blowing refreshingly on him. that is until the body squirms from under him and he no longer feels those arms hugging him. “uh, are you going to get off of me?’  
  
he doesn’t do anything in response and after a few moments, he feels himself being rolled off and onto the cold floor. he lets out a displeased whine and looks back at the body next to him. it's juho. he’s fixing his ruffled black hair and leaning back to pick up a dropped cigarette, stubbing the end. taeyang watches as the lights of the flames are killed. “sorry. you were kinda crushing my ribcage.”  
  
taeyang sits up and leans on the glass window of the balcony, the comfortable buzz of his consciousness is still there but the headache seems to have died down. he tugs the sleeves of his yellow sweater down to cover his cold fingertips and he wraps his arms around his knees bringing them to his chest. “it’s okay. thanks for not letting me die.”  
  
juho chuckles. “that’s alright. didn’t really feel like attending a funeral anytime soon.”  
  
taeyang feels a small smile creep on his face. and he watches as juho scoots closer to sit down next to him. he can smell alcohol and cigarettes on juho, and he wonders if he’s tipsy as well. the warmth that juho radiates is inviting and he leans his head on the other’s shoulder, not thinking.  
  
“you’re pretty clingy when you’re drunk aren’t you.” juho purrs.  
  
“’m not that drunk. just yellow.”  
  
“you mean mellow?”  
  
taeyang plays at the sleeves of his sweater. “just yellow.”  
  
juho chuckles again. taeyang’s close enough that he feels the way juho’s chest bounce as he does and hears the soft exhale of his breath. “well if you’re yellow, guess i’m yellow too.”  
  
the boy in the yellow sweater giggles. the other decides he likes that noise a lot.

they’re quiet for a while, just feeling each other’s presence. taeyang has something in his mind and it must be the alcohol because usually he wouldn’t say something so straightforward as this, but he hears himself murmur an “i don’t really know you.”  
  
“do you want to?” juho questions, closing his eyes to embrace the way the alcohol makes him feel light and free. taeyang’s glad that the elder also seems to be a little drunk. makes it much easier, with all their anxious thoughts away.  
  
he nods. juho returns it with a _‘why.’_  
  
“quiet people deserve to be noticed too.”  
  
juho opens his eyes, frowning. “are you saying i’m not noticed?”  
  
“i think most people think quiet people are quiet because we don’t have much to say,” taeyang whispers, fiddling with the silver chain bracelet on juho’s wrist, “but i think quiet people are quiet because we don’t want others to feel our burden. don’t you? ”  
  
the elder turns his head to look at him. the boy leaning on his shoulder is not the boy he sees when he’s with his other friends. he’s not the tall, stoic and energetic boy that he sees playing around with hwiyoung or chani. and when he really comes to think about it, all the times that he’s seen taeyang with the group, he’s quiet. always listening, big eyes focused on the other, lips pursed. “tell me about yourself then, taeyang-ssi.”  
  
the boy goes quiet, lips pressed. “um… i have a really bad memory?”  
  
juho smirks. “my memory’s actually really good.”  
  
taeyang loops up, unconvinced. “prove it.”  
  
“how?”  
  
“what was i wearing when you first met me?”  
  
“a white hoodie and the same jeans you have on now. i was wearing a yellow sweatshirt.”  
  
taeyang stares at him, thinking hard. “uh i actually don’t remember so you’re probably right, i guess.”

juho rolls his eyes letting out a small laugh. taeyang is quiet as he watches how juho’s face lights up as he does, and finds himself joining. it dies down and a harsher breeze hits them and juho shivers, as he’s only wearing a thin white t-shirt that makes his skin look luminous. taeyang wraps his arm on juho’s shoulder and brings him close. “if you’re cold, you should go inside.”  
  
juho shakes his head. “i like it outside. feels less lonely.”  
  
“our friends are inside though.”  
  
“sometimes you can have people around you and still feel lonely.” he whispers back.  
  
and taeyang remembers nodding. he remembers them talking softly after, about their dreams, their fears, their favourite kind of music, trivial things. he remembers waking up to the others laughing as they take pictures of him and juho, cuddling and shivering as they wake up to a cold december morning. he remembers the way juho’s nose was red and his sniffles, as they go back inside to take a long warm shower, remembers the cold they had for a week after that. he remembers the feeling of gaining a new friend. remembers warmth. he remembers the color yellow.

☼

taeyang knew juho was different. and juho knew it too.

since that night out in the balcony, they talked more. exchanged numbers and talked until the night turned into dawn, until the other dozed off, and a one _‘do you want to go out for beef skewers?’_ turned into a weekly event. they would meet by the coffee shop as it was their midpoint from each other’s houses, and they would walk, sometimes in a comfortable silence, most times in mindless conversation. there were times when juho would bring out his phone, plug his earphones in, putting one in taeyang’s ear and one in his own, and they would listen to a song that he made recently as they walked. taeyang liked those times the best, felt like those were times he really knew juho.

they’d eat in their favourite meat shop. they’d gone to several before but after their fifth? sixth? time, they’d come across this one by the namsan park. it was small and often empty, but the old lady running it was nice and she seemed to have a soft spot for taeyang, often giving them free portions of beef. but that wasn’t why they liked this shop the most, they liked it because they could feel the breeze from the close by river and they liked it because it was quiet and secluded. they’d eat for an hour or so, maybe order a soju. afterwards they’d walk down to the park and sit by the riverside. it’d be late by then, it’d be just them, the stars and the river.

on days that they’d have a little bit too much to drink, juho would interlace his fingers with taeyang’s. but only when he was sure no one was around. taeyang lets him, heart racing. he convinces it’s because of the alcohol, but there’s a small part of him that’s wishing he’d do it when he wasn’t tipsy. sometimes juho would rest his head on taeyang’s shoulder and taeyang would feel a few drops of tears fall onto the fabric of his shirt. most times he tries to convince himself that it’s raining. taeyang’s never sure what to do, he once tried to ask why juho was crying but he got no response. so now he just hugs juho. tells him that it’ll be okay. juho whispers back a sorry.

taeyang starts walking juho home after a couple of times. most times juho will let him stay over, and they’ll talk a bit on the couch. by the point they’ve sobered up, juho would put on a few of his demos and they’ll listen, and maybe juho would load up his programs and show taeyang how he creates them too. it starts to become a routine at this point. juho’s home starts to feel like his, starts to feel comforted by the smell of ink and the large number of notebooks that juho have lying around in his home. taeyang’s not sure what’s written in them, it must be his song ideas. he’s impressed with the amount there are, wonders how a person can be so inspired. he’ll often fall asleep to juho scribbling in one of them.

until things changed one night.

at this point spring has welcomed them, saying goodbye to the cold winter. they go through their usual routine, they meet by the coffee shop, they walk to the beef skewer shop and go to the park afterwards. but he finally realizes things have changed, like how juho refuses the soju. how as they walk back to juho’s home, they’re hands are still interlaced but there’s no trace of alcohol on their lips. taeyang tries to pin point it but he can’t remember when the rain stopped.

they’re talking on the sofa when it happens. juho keeps staring at his lips, taeyang feels like he has bits of dinner still on them. he chews and bites at it until he feels juho brings his hand to his cheek, whispering a _‘stop that.’_ taeyang’s heart pounds and his eyes stare right back to juho’s and he’s motionless. feels as though he’s stuck in place. juho looks at him like how he looks at the stars. he looks into them as if wondering when the stars in the sky started being in taeyang’s eyes. how the stars were never so far away, how they were always just there.

they’re moving closer, they’re not sure who starts it, but they let it happen as if it was just pure gravitational forces pulling them together. juho closes his eyes, taeyang does too. and suddenly juho finally reaches the stars. they’re lips move together in sync, soft and careful as if they’re both afraid that they’ll break. the hand on taeyang’s cheek is caressing him softly and he hums contently. he leans forward so that juho lies down on the couch, head resting on the inside arm. juho’s lips are soft like pillows, unlike his own chapped ones. they’re intoxicating and all he wants to do is just kiss them until they hurt. his heart flutters, and he feels the pounding of juho’s. they break apart to breathe, and they look deeply at each other.

taeyang doesn’t remember exactly when he fell for juho. didn’t really realize he did until now. but he remembers the feeling of yellow and how it had always been there from the start. he looks back at the times they talked, the times they didn’t and how they slowly became each other’s stars, and it makes sense to him. taeyang giggles. and juho smiles, shyly. “what?”

he hooks the cuff of juho’s sweatshirt with his own sweatshirt, grinning at the color. “you’re yellow.”

the smile on juho grows and he leans forward to press a small kiss on taeyang’s lips. “you’re yellow, too.”

☼

following that night, not much changed. they didn’t really declare that they were dating but they definitely weren’t what they were before. there were more kisses and hand holding. the nights felt the same, except instead of their weekly beef skewers, they saw each other often. taeyang doesn’t move in per say, but he’s at juho’s home more often than his own.

their friends are indifferent with the two of them. they noticed that they’re closer than the rest of them are, spots how they hold hands more often and send more gazes at each other but they don’t seem to care. they’ll make a few comments about how taeyang seems to be the only person who could get juho to smile in the morning or how juho doesn’t swear at taeyang as much as the rest, and they’ll tell them to get a room if they get distracted by each other, but they don’t care. taeyang sees how it brings a whole weight off of juho’s shoulders. starts to make sense of all that rain there was before.

he’s happy. he finally feels he’s met someone who was marching with the same rhythm as him. juho and taeyang were very similar in a sense. they were both quiet and reserved but they could be energetic when they wanted to, when they are comfortable. they understood each other in a sense that the others didn’t quite get. juho was soft and he was pretty, with his slender, sharp eyes that resembled a cat, and his sharp nose and his pouty lips, and taeyang loved pretty things. he was so entranced with juho that he never really realized. so entranced with their many dates, their walks in the parks, their lazy afternoons, the way their bodies moved together that he never noticed how juho would always scribble something down each time they did all these things. always just thought it was his passion that was on his pages. taeyang liked to think juho was writing about him—and he was right. just not in the way he was expecting.

 

juho had always had good memory.

they liked to joke about it. how taeyang could never remember what he had for breakfast that day but juho could remember that he had cereal and an eggroll at 9:22 am before he headed off to his anthropology class, not without complaining about how boring it was. juho _always_ remembers. he doesn’t need his class schedule, remembers taeyang’s by heart. can remember which days it was raining, literally, which days it wasn’t. and sometimes he can remember things about taeyang that taeyang himself couldn’t. like the time taeyang thought he had lost his favourite ripped jeans but juho calls out from the kitchen that taeyang had thrown them out two weeks ago since he had spilt banana milk all over them. they liked to joke that juho was his memory when taeyang couldn’t remember. which was so sadly ironic.

 

it starts off quietly. taeyang doesn’t notice it until it really happens. just like how he fell in love with juho, it was gradual and quiet. until it happens.

it’s the little things. juho would never lose anything, except taeyang would start to see his boyfriend rummaging around his pockets and his bag looking for his keys to his house. would watch as he struggled to find it, tongue sticking up shyly, brows furrowed into a frustrated frown. and taeyang would laugh. and he would point to juho’s right fist, where he had the keys clutched tightly. juho would let out a huff and go quiet, opening the door and entering his house. taeyang would kiss his pout away.

he had also started forgetting his class schedule. taeyang always had introduction of music production on tuesday afternoons, but one day juho walks in. he was a senior, and his class was only on wednesdays. this started happening almost every week, and in the beginning taeyang would giggle. ruffling his boyfriend’s hair when they were back at juho’s and squishing his blushing cheeks, telling him to get more sleep. but then he’d start to see him in the hallways of their college with his school bag when taeyang was sure that juho had his shift at the record shop down the street. he’d stop him and ask why he wasn’t at work. juho would frown and say _‘i don’t have a job though’_ and walk past him, apologizing saying that he needed to get to his literature class. taeyang watches as juho hurries down the hallway. juho dropped his literature course last fall.

juho also starts to forget their weekly beef skewer dinners. taeyang will wait by the coffee shop for around thirty minutes or so, _‘he’s probably fallen asleep’_ he’ll think. but when he calls, juho’s just as confused as taeyang is. “beef skewers? at 5pm?”

taeyang would go silent, a little disappointment growing in him until juho seems to snap out of it. “oh. right. i’ll be there.” and before taeyang would hang up, juho will ask “um. where are we meeting again?”

he doesn’t really think all of this is a big deal though. until that one day when they’re walking back to juho’s after their walk in the park. juho takes a turn that’s in the opposite direction of his apartment, which has taeyang frowning as he takes juho’s hand. “where are you going, hyung?’  
  
“home. rowoon will be worried if i’m not back before midnight. i forgot to text him that i’d be out.” juho states, as he looks down at their interlaced fingers.  
  
taeyang feels his heart drop. he feels it plummet six feet under him and he feels panic rushing over it. his mouth goes dry and his hands are hot. suddenly all those times juho seemed to forget dawned on him. something wasn’t right. “hyung. you stopped living with rowoon hyung three years ago.”  
  
juho stares back at taeyang. the quiet that enveloped them isn’t comfortable like the times they’re used to. it’s tense and heavy and juho wonders where the stars have gone. he keeps looking back to taeyang’s eyes and then back at their hands. and he lets out a small _‘oh,’_ and doesn’t say anything else. he lets taeyang lead him back to his house, fumbling to find his keys again, forgetting where he had put them when he left. taeyang watches leaning against the wall, fighting tears because juho never forgets anything.

 

they’re lying down in bed when taeyang asks. “do you remember what you were wearing the first day we met?”  
  
juho shuffles closer. almost dozing off in the comfortable warmth. “don’t know… black probably.”  
  
taeyang doesn’t fall asleep that night. he can’t. can’t help but think that it wasn’t black that juho was wearing. it was yellow and that juho had known before that it was yellow. he wonders what else juho had forgotten. what else juho will forget. it starts raining again. this time it’s taeyang that’s raining.

 

when it happens again, it’s even worse. they’re walking home after meeting up after their lectures ends and juho stops at a bus stop and sits down on the bench. taeyang frowns. “are you tired?”  
  
juho shakes his head. “heading home, might miss the line 7 bus if i go by foot.”  
  
line 7. the bus that goes from seoul and stops at gyeonggi-do.  
  
taeyang tugs at juho’s arm, willing him up and to his feet. “c’mon hyung this isn’t funny, let’s just go home.”  
  
“i’m not joking,” juho rips his arms from taeyang’s grip, “have to get home to see mom before visiting hours are over.”  
  
the words feel like daggers piercing taeyang’s heart. he feels his eyes go glassy and he watches as juho sits down again, with annoyance in his eyes, and lips pressed, arms crossing like a toddler. taeyang squats down in front of him, taking his hands into his. “hyung. your mom died. she died four years ago.”  
  
his boyfriend stares at him. eyes searching through taeyang’s and as he does, taeyang swears he can see how juho’s eyes relax with clarity. as though his mind had been in clouds that had just blown over. juho brings his hands to his face, rubbing at his temples, head down, ashamed. “fuck, sorry. yeah let’s just go home.”

☼

taeyang wants to avoid it. he wants to pretend that juho keeps forgetting things. wants to forget that taeyang has to walk juho home every day now to make sure his boyfriend actually knows the way back. wants to forget that juho has to write what classes he has on the palm of his hand each day and wants to forget the post it notes stuck on the door reminding juho that thursdays were beef skewer days and that he needed to meet taeyang at 5pm. wants to forget how many more calendars start to pop up around juho’s apartment. wants to forget that juho keeps thinking it’s 2014 when it’s actually 2018.

he wants to avoid it. but there’s a fear in him that’s scratching on his skin. that’s clawing at his consciousness. he wants to avoid it but he can’t sleep at night because the thought is so scary that every time he closes his eyes he thinks of how juho might forget who he is because something. isn’t. right. and he wants to cry because it’s so awful. juho might be seriously sick and all taeyang can think about is  _'what about me. will he forget me?'_

so he asks.

“hyung, what’s wrong?”

maybe he should have asked at a better time. maybe should’ve asked earlier. he probably should’ve asked earlier. juho’s perched up by his desk, working on a demo. taeyang’s sitting by him, as he always does, watching the elder work. but this time he really can’t concentrate with what juho’s doing. juho takes off his headphones, and looks down at him, concern evident in his eyes. “what do you mean? nothing’s wrong.”

“you keep forgetting things lately,” taeyang says, chewing his lip. “you always had good memory.”

juho goes quiet. taeyang watches as the smile disappears from his face and watches as his eyes go cold. it starts to rain. taeyang hasn’t seen the sight in a while. he watches as downpours of tears fall from juho’s face. watches as his boyfriend crumbles instantly. he stands up to hug juho, and he wraps him so tightly in his embrace as if he wants to leave impressions on juho that would never fade away. juho buries his face in taeyang’s shoulder, chest heaving from sobs that shake taeyang’s heart to the core. he rests his chin on the top of juho’s head, and he feels his own rain.

juho cries for what feels like forever. it finally comes to small hiccups but there are still tears that slowly fall from his eyes that stain taeyang’s shirt.

“i-is it cancer?” his voice barely above a whisper.

juho’s voice is so quiet that it was as if he was scared that his words would make it everything real. “alzheimer’s.”

it doesn’t stop raining after that night.

☼

juho has early onset alzheimer’s disease. his mom had it before she died. and taeyang finds out that juho had known he had it from the very beginning and it feels like all the puzzles have finally been put into place, all the times juho cried on taeyang’s shoulder now make sense. he can’t bring himself to be mad. can’t get mad at juho for pursuing him knowing he had it because he loves him too much. he can’t get mad at juho because of how much he sees that juho is struggling, too. juho’s struggling much more than him. but he can’t help but feel a little bit of hurt knowing what was to come.

taeyang stays over every day now. their other friends don’t seem to know, and in the midst of school, they seem preoccupied in their own plans that they don’t really seem to notice or pay the two any attention; thinking that juho and taeyang would want to spend their free time together. taeyang starts a routine. he wakes up early and packs juho’s school bag, as if he was a mother packing for her child. he writes juho’s schedule for the day on the palm of juho’s hand as his boyfriend sleeps because he’s forgotten that he does that lately. puts reminder’s on juho’s phone too, just in case (they had to take off the password a few weeks ago, juho couldn’t remember it so they had to reset his whole phone).

sometimes, taeyang will try to cook lunch for juho. one day he’s trying to cook an eggroll when juho stumbles out of the bedroom, eyes droopy from sleep, black hair unruly and messy. taeyang smiles at the sight. “good morn-“

“who the fuck are you?”

taeyang feels his heart drop. his mouth goes dry, and feels the chopsticks in his hands fall to the floor. he stares back at juho, who looks angry, shocked, scared. “j-juho-“

“what are you doing in my house?!” juho shrieks. taeyang feels powerless. he can’t do anything. his worst fear had come and he can’t even do anything about it. he can’t speak. he can’t breathe. he can’t move. it’s dead silent between them, and taeyang just stares. stares at disbelief because fuck, juho has forgotten who he was just like that. has forgotten all their happy memories together because now taeyang’s a nobody. taeyang starts to cry, but maybe he’s been crying all along.

“i’m taeyang,” he hears himself whisper. “your boyfriend.”

he’s sobbing by the time juho snaps out of it. it takes a while. juho has a phone in his hand threatening to call the police if taeyang doesn’t get out of his apartment and taeyang’s just breaking, hugging himself tightly, trying to keep himself together, chanting, “i’m taeyang. it’s me. you know me,” until his throat starts to go raw. suddenly, juho goes quiet, lowers his arms that he had up, threatening to punch taeyang who was walking towards him. his eyes soften and they look at a crying taeyang, eyes red and murky with tears, stars missing form his pupils.

“h-hyung?”

juho feels his heart break. he feels it crack from within his chest at the sight of taeyang and he can’t help but hate himself. he walks over and brings taeyang close, hugging him tightly. he hears taeyang hiccupping against his shoulders, wet cheeks rubbing against his shirt. “i’m so sorry. fuck, taeyang. i didn’t mean to forget you.” he pulls back and kisses taeyang, it's hard and frantic and taeyang returns it just as strongly. they stay like that for a while, standing in their embrace. juho tries to forget the small _‘but you did’_ that taeyang whispers, but his mind doesn’t let him.

they fuck that night. it feels different than before. they don’t feel as close as they do, doesn’t feel as warm. it feels desperate and detached but taeyang is driving into him so hard and so fast, punching the air out of him, as though he wants to make sure that the thought of him is planted permanently into juho. he marks the elder’s pale skin with bruises and hickeys and it hurts but juho wants it. wants those marks, wants nothing more but reminders that he’s taeyang’s. juho comes so hard that he sees stars, and taeyang is still plowing into him. he whimpers in oversensitiveness, willing taeyang to reach his high. when he does, taeyang drops on top of him, exhausted. they hold each other, silently raining until they fall asleep, both of them scared that juho would forget when he wakes up.

in the morning, taeyang, as always, wakes up early than juho. he goes through his routine for the latter but he doesn’t miss the new post-it note that’s stuck on the wall. doesn’t miss how his heart cracks a little as he reads the messy handwriting of juho that reads, _‘he’s taeyang. he’s your boyfriend and you love him very much.’_

☼

juho’s memory gets worse from there. it gets to the point where they had to call their close friends, sit them down as juho explained his situation. that was a bad day. taeyang remembers how they all cried together, how sad each of them looked as they set reality within each of them. it rained a lot too. there were thunderstorms even. they call juho’s older brother and father, explains again, and that’s another bad day.

taeyang can really only remember bad days after this point. juho wakes up more often not knowing who taeyang is, and it gets to the point where taeyang gets used to it. he no longer cries anymore. he’s numb. and he knows it just takes juho a few moments until he remembers again. so he hangs on to that hope that he will, and gets through those rough moments.

but there were a few very good days. sometimes juho will wake up remembering, as if there was nothing wrong with him in the first place. on those days they’ll call the others and they’ll all hang out together. one day, they head to the beach. it’s summer by this point and they never really got to celebrate rowoon’s graduation together (juho was supposed to graduate too but the amount of assignments that he had forgotten to complete caused him to be held back a year — though they both knew that there was a low chance juho would return to schooling.) they rent an old suv and take it out to the nearest beach. it’s sunny that day. all of them are running around, laughing, splashing water at each other. juho’s smiling a lot, so taeyang can smile too. and it’s the first time he feels yellow in a while.

the two sit together on the trunk of the suv whilst they watch the others run into the sea. the cold breeze hits them, and it reminds juho of the night up in the balcony. he turns over to taeyang who looks back at him, and he notices how there were fewer stars in the younger's eyes. he feels a pang of pain in his chest knowing it was him who had taken them away.

taeyang smiles, leaning over to press a kiss against juho’s lips. juho smiles into it, bringing his hands up to taeyang’s soft, round cheeks, savoring the feeling. there’s a small tear that slip from taeyang’s eyes. none of them mention it. they pretend the fact that nothing is wrong. they focus on today. they are at the beach with the people they loved the most. they are laughing and the breeze is so comfortable and their embrace is so warm, and so they pretend it wasn’t happening. they pretend that juho can’t remember anymore and pretend that they’re creating a memory that will last forever. it was bittersweet—it was as if both of them knew that this was their last good day.

they return from the day at the beach and it only gets worse. juho barely remembers their friends anymore, and most days taeyang. it takes longer for him to snap out of it, too. he also stops going out alone because he can’t remember the directions back to his house, and most times his mind leads him to the bus station on his way back to gyeonggi-do. juho’s brother calls more often, telling juho to come back home, to get treatment. but juho doesn’t. and taeyang is glad. he knows he’s being selfish and even though every moment hurts with juho now, he at least gets to be with him.

some days are good though. well, not good, but they’re better. taeyang cherishes those days the most he can. juho will get up and he’ll remember taeyang. they’ll talk and they’ll spend the day inside because although it’s a good day, they both know that it’s not good enough for juho to go outside. and that’s alright, they like being inside anyway. they’ll cook something together, sit by the couch and talk, kiss until they’re out of breath—kinda like the days before. but it never feels the same. because they’re both staring at the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes till tomorrow where juho will forget.

juho stops making music too, but he never stops writing in his notebooks. taeyang watches as his boyfriend just scribbles, alternating between notebooks that he has spread out in front of him on his desk. he notices that juho’s bought a new one, one that’s yellow and has a string wrapped around the pages, binding it. the spine’s almost breaking with the amount of stuff that’s stuck and wedged in the pages. he’s curious to know what he’s writing but he doesn’t read it. he wants to give juho the smallest bit of himself that he can, since the alzheimer’s has taken everything away.

they talk less often now. it feels like those days when they had just met each other. except this time when hwiyoung comes over it's even more silent and taeyang just wants to scream at how wrong this feels. his other friends stop coming over too. they’ll text taeyang privately, asking how juho is, but they don’t dare come over. it must be hard for them too, taeyang thinks. he can’t help but feel angry though. he feels lonely. feels lonely, as if he’s dealing with juho all by himself. but then again, that’s all he wants. taeyang’s a very possessive person—what’s his is his and what’s theirs is theirs. and he only wants juho for himself. even if juho doesn’t remember him.

it rains everyday now. a constant downpour and taeyang wonders if juho knows that he can hear how he sobs in the bathroom at night when he thinks taeyang is asleep. and juho wonders if taeyang knows that he knows how taeyang silently cries to himself whilst he hugs him when he thinks juho’s asleep. taeyang thinks that they’ve cried so much they could create another ocean just with their tears. thinks they’ve cried so much that they could drown in their oceans.

 

when juho remembers one day, they fight till their throats are sore and it’s raining heavily.

“taeyang please just fucking leave! i can’t fucking stand you being here!”

“you can’t make me leave even if you wanted to,” taeyang shouts stubbornly, “you need someone.”

juho darts away from taeyang’s reach. “i’m hurting you. you don’t fucking deserve me.”

“you don’t get to decide that for me, hyung.”

“i’ll forget you. and then you won’t have me.”

that shuts taeyang up. that’s when juho sees all the remaining stars in taeyang’s eyes die out. suddenly he feels the loneliness that he hasn’t felt in a while. he watches taeyang as he walks away, eyes red with tears, and to the bedroom, closing the door as quietly as possible. juho wishes that he slammed it. that night juho watches the night sky by an open window. it's foggy out, all the stars are hidden by a cloudy blanket of grey. not even the moon would keep him company. he lets silent tears run down his cheeks, each of them in time with the sobs that he can hear coming from their bedroom. juho wishes he could go and comfort him. maybe he should. he doesn’t.

what he does do is get up and walk to his desk. he opens a black notebook and flips open the cover. the first page reads, _‘memories of bad days.’_ he quickly goes through the pages, eyes skimming through some of the words, _'i failed my music production assignment,’ ‘couldn’t visit mom at the hospital today,’ ‘mom died today,’ ‘told taeyang i had alzheimer’s’,_ until he reaches a blank one. taking a discarded pen and scribbles, _‘fought with taeyang again. don’t think i will remember enough to apologize.’_

he closes the notebook and looks over at the yellow one that he has stacked beside black ones. he takes it and walks back over to the window. opening the cover and reading each page one by one, absorbing every word, every picture, every memory that he could. he smiles softly, brings the notebook close to his chest when he finishes reading, and he cries. cries knowing that there were no more memories he could write. but a part of him feels yellow—he feels yellow because there were memories. there were so many that the spine of the notebook is close to snapping. there were so many and as he reads them, they all come rushing back to him. the night out in the balcony, the beef skewers, the walks by the parks, the conversations, the day at the beach. it’s all been there in the very corner of his now dark memory. and he thinks that maybe he’ll remember them forever. maybe taeyang has engraved himself deeper than what the disease in his head could reach.

juho puts the notebook back in its place and walks into the bedroom. taeyang has fallen asleep at this point, juho shuffles quietly to lie down next to him. he falls asleep quickly, with the thought of _i’ll remember him. i’ll always remember him even if i can’t._

they wake up the next morning and they’re back to zero. taeyang doesn’t think the post-its are working anymore. juho can’t remember his own handwriting anymore. 

☼

taeyang should have seen it coming. he knows it was going to and maybe he could have prepared himself for it if he wasn’t too busy pretending that all of this wasn’t happening. juho got even quieter, more confused. he’ll let taeyang take care of him silently, but taeyang is sure that his boyfriend doesn’t know who he is. he no longer recognized his own apartment these days, no longer recognized seoul anymore, and he constantly talked about needing to go back to gyeonggi-do. juho will now wake up scared and will frantically run out of the door, or at least try to. one day he almost makes it halfway to the bus terminal, nothing but pajamas on, whilst taeyang chases after him. it was getting harder and harder for taeyang to deal with it. and maybe that’s why he lets it happen. maybe some part of him wanted it to happen.

but really taeyang isn’t quite sure what really does happen.

all he knows is that one day, he wakes up and juho’s not sleeping in the bed next to him. he’s quiet at first. checks the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen. then he tries calling his phone but hears a buzzing coming from the desk and so he hangs up. and he’s quiet. he tries so hard to be quiet as he realizes that juho’s bag is missing along with his wallet that he usually leaves on the kitchen counter. and fuck it's just too quiet. but taeyang can’t make a noise. he’s just staring at the empty spaces, standing in the middle of the living room and the silence is just too much that it's almost too loud.

he rings another number on his phone.

“taeyang it’s like 9am what do you want?”

“he’s gone.” taeyang utters. his voice cracking.

it goes silent. taeyang wishes that they’ll say something to fill out this dead noise. “what? what do you mean he’s gone?”

he feels a tear run down his cheek. “h-he’s gone, hwiyoung. he’s not anywhere in the apartment. i looked everywhere and he left his phone on the desk and his bag and wallet is gone and he’s just gone. i don’t know where he is, i don’t know where he went and—“

taeyang starts to hyperventilate. he’s just repeating words over and over as if saying them again and again will help him understand what’s actually happening. hwiyoung tries to calm him down, the best he can through the phone. he hears hwiyoung telling him that it’ll be okay and to hang on because the rest of them are coming, and it just goes straight out of taeyang’s ear because all he can think about is that there’s one less pair of shoes by the entrance and juho’s favorite yellow sweater is gone from where he left it on the couch the night before. and there’s just so many missing spaces all over the place and he just feels more missing places in his fucking heart. because juho was gone and he doe—

the door bursts open and taeyang hears a stampede of footsteps before he’s picked up off the floor—he didn’t even realize he was there in the first place. rowoon’s cupping his face in his hands and he’s telling taeyang to look at him and he does. but everything is muffled. there’s so many voices around him and he can’t concentrate on any of them. there’s one telling him to breathe. there’s one yelling at hwiyoung to get a hold of juho’s brother. there’s one crying so hard and one that’s just scurrying around the room saying _‘he couldn’t have just left.’_

and possibly this was the worst day in taeyang’s life. because he couldn’t breathe. because juho’s brother doesn’t pick up. because they can’t stop crying. and because no amount of searching would help. because juho was really gone. and no one knew where.

taeyang catches his own reflection from the mirror that was placed on top of the television. he looks defeated and empty. his grandmother used to say that taeyang hold the stars in his eyes. but there were no more stars. there couldn’t be under all this rain.

☼

he never finds out what happens to juho. doesn’t ever figure out where he went. he guesses juho went back to gyeonggi-do, where his mind has been trying to take him all this time. but juho’s brother seemed to have changed his phone number because he doesn’t pick up when taeyang or hwiyoung calls, so he’s not really sure. he goes up there one weekend to search, but he realizes juho never really told him where he lived in gyeonggi-do. so he spends the trip there just wandering. he gives up after a while too. it hurts, but he realizes that juho probably left because he didn’t want taeyang to be so caught up with him. it takes him a while to get to this point though. for weeks he’s waiting by the door. waiting for footsteps to arrive, and the familiar voice to say _‘i’m home,’_ but it never does. it takes him a lot of nights where he’s crying in hwiyoung’s, youngbin’s, rowoon’s, or whoever’s available arms. and it’s hard. because juho was taeyang’s stars and suddenly he was living in a dark night. not knowing when the stars would come back again. if they would ever.

taeyang starts to pack up juho’s things. the lease on his apartment is ending, and taeyang never officially moved in, so he spends the days now just cleaning up the home that they built for each other to move back to his own apartment. it’s hard, though. his friends offer to help but taeyang refuses. some days he gets things done but some days he’s crying, sitting by the wardrobe, bringing the hoodie that juho often wore up to his face, smelling the scent of ink and old notebooks that he misses so much.

he touches the notebooks last. they were all on juho’s desk and taeyang avoided them as he cleans up the rest of the furniture but suddenly their home is just packed boxes and he only has one more empty one to fill. so with a deep breathe he walks up to the old, large desk, where juho’s most beloved items sit. he touches the leather covers with his hand, feeling the warmth that they still had and running his fingers through the sides, touching the broken spines and the worn-out pages. he notices juho’s phone is lying on top of the yellow notebook. and sees that there was a post-it note that was stuck on the screen, reading _‘watch this.’_

taeyang frowns. he turns on the power button and watches as the phone lights up, it still has battery. he swipes the screen unlocking it and what opens is a video. a video of juho. he’s wearing his favourite black hoodie, the one that he left in the bedroom, and it's day time. he’s not sure when this video’s from. doesn’t really remember when juho wore that hoodie last. doesn’t remember a good day when he wore that hoodie and remembered enough to make a video. taeyang stares at the screen, stares at the play button and he screams at himself to just throw the phone out the window. he can’t look at his face anymore. can’t look at it without hurting. but he allows himself to hurt just once more.

he presses play.

“hi.” juho says in the video. just that one word makes taeyang tear up, realizing just how much he fucking misses him and his soft, soothing voice, “um. if you’re watching this i guess it means that i’m gone. it’s july 18th today. we went to the beach with everyone. it was a nice day, you went out to get some food just now so i thought i’d film this. i’ve been meaning to for a while now, just never thought it would get this bad that i’d have to.”

taeyang presses pause and he takes a sharp inhale of breath, collapsing to the floor as he does. he lets out a sob remembering that day out on the beach, remembering how happy he was. he looks at the juho in the video, skin glowing, eyes glimmering, soul yellow and he can’t help but wish he goes back to that day. he presses play.

“please don’t try to find me. it breaks my heart everyday seeing you in pain and i don’t want that for you anymore. i know you deserve a better explanation than that, and i’m sorry i can’t give it to you. just know that i am fine.

you were perfect, yoo taeyang. in every way you were perfect. and i prayed so hard that maybe i’d remember you. that my love was enough to remember you but this fucking thing in my head just ruined it.”

taeyang watches as the tears fall from juho’s eyes. he wishes he was there to catch them.

“you deserve someone who notices you better than a person who can’t remember anything he does. you deserve a love that’s not so hard and one that you don’t have to fight so fucking hard for. because you’re so perfect. you’re a star and you can’t waste all of your light on someone who can’t acknowledge it. and i can’t really express how sorry i am. i know i was being selfish for letting you in, for letting you come so close. but i was lonely. i wanted good memories that i could forget because i didn’t have any, but i didn’t realize that i would hurt you in the process. but thank you. thank you for sticking with me for so long. thank you for creating these memories with me. i loved them so much, and i wish we could have more…

maybe we’ll meet in the next life, taeyang-ssi, and we’ll have a happy ending. we never really did believe in reincarnation but if reincarnation comes with the chance of meeting, i’ll believe it till the day i die and until i meet you again.

i won’t promise i’ll remember you. i can promise you that i won’t. i’ll lose myself completely soon,” he grabs a notebook, the one that sits on the desk in front of taeyang. he watches as juho flicks through the pages with a small smile, “and these will be all that’s left of me. some will be just for me,” juho says, grabbing a few, showing the camera, “these are all my bad days. i don’t want you to know of these,” he says putting them down.

“but all my good days are yours. because you were my good days.”

taeyang watches as juho grabs his yellow notebook. watches as his boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, turns each page with a smile and watches as he rains so quietly, spotting the pages with raindrops. he watches as juho’s shoulders start to shake with sobs, and watches as he takes deep breathes trying to calm himself. he looks back at the camera with red, glassy eyes and smiles sadly. “just because i cannot remember all our memories anymore, it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen… if you would, i’d like it if they could live on with you. if you could remember them for me.”

taeyang doesn’t realize how much he’s sobbing until juho pauses, and he hears his own sobs fill the silence. it was all so wrong. taeyang wasn’t the one that was supposed to remember for juho. it was juho who was supposed to be remembering for taeyang. that was their joke. that was what they used to laugh about whenever taeyang couldn’t remember anything and would turn to juho to do for him. it was so fucking morbid how the roles have switched. so fucking cruel of juho to do this for him. he stands up, and takes the yellow notebook, from the bottom of the piles of notebooks. he opens the cover and sob gets caught in his throat.

_‘memories of all my yellow days.’_

he hears juho continue from the phone and he’s half paying attention, mostly paying attention to the scribbles of notes that fill each page. he reads them with tears pouring down his face, but he’s smiling and he’s laughing at each word, each picture, each memory. “i know i’ve gave you a lot of sad days and that all our good days could never outweigh those. but i want you to know that i’ve cherished every day with you, despite good or bad, and i’ll keep these sad memories so that you can have all my, and our good ones.

i love you so much, taeyang. i always will. i love you more than there are stars in the galaxy and more than there are stars in your eyes. and i hope from now on, you live remembering only happy memories.”

the video comes to a stop. taeyang can’t bring himself to cry anymore. not when he’s surrounded with all these happy memories of him and juho. he can’t bring himself to cry. doesn’t want the rain to ruin the pages. he reads each page over and over again, closing his eyes as he finishes the words, trying to envision that memory. he does this until he reaches the end of the notebook, and he closes it, bringing it up to his chest. and oddly, taeyang feels at peace. he can’t really explain it. but his heart feels like it finally had calmed down and his mind doesn’t feel so frantic anymore. he feels like he’s floating in all these memories. and he feels… _yellow._

he feels like juho has never left. because he never did. juho will forever be with taeyang. in the corner of his memory. warm and inviting, making a home in his mind along where the stars in taeyang’s eyes brings him light and where he can forever live happily in yellow memories—where there are no bad days. where there are no rainstorms. where it’s just taeyang and juho, and the color yellow.

☼

taeyang likes to sit in the coffee shop nowadays. he likes sitting in the back corner of the coffee shop where he, hwiyoung and juho sat at that afternoon where taeyang and juho first met. he’ll bring one of juho’s notebooks and he’ll read them. most of them are just about juho, since the yellow one was the one for theirs, but he likes to read them too to keep the memory of a once happy juho alive.

he’s moved on though. he really has. his friends don’t really believe him because of how attached he is to his notebooks, but he can’t really explain that it’s not him hanging onto juho, it's him _hanging on for juho_. he often finds pages with juho’s memories of his friends. he’ll take a picture and send it to them, reminding them of how much juho loved them. loves them.

it’s been over half a year now. taeyang doesn’t know where juho is, doesn’t even know if he’s alive. he tries to make it through the days where taeyang thinks he isn’t. today is hard though. it would’ve been their anniversary.

so he lets himself be sad when he sees a man walk into the coffee shop, hair black and messy just like juho’s was. he lets himself feel the pang of longing that's left in his heart, and hunches over, arms crossing on the table. he rests his head on his arms and sobs silently.

taeyang breaks his promise from time to time. but he makes sure that there are always good days to his sad days. because yellow would never seem like the brightest color if there was no black.

☼

juho walks into the coffee shop in a hurry. he calls out something to his older brother who waves him off, standing by the entrance. he’s hit by the scent of coffee beans and freshly baked biscotti and he smiles at the scent.

as he walks up to the counter, he spots a man sitting in the corner, in a yellow sweatshirt, shoulders hunched over, his whole body folded in on himself. he’s shaking—quiet sobs that juho can hear from here. he continues to walk over to the counter, orders his coffee to go. he takes another look at the crying man, and something in him tells him to go walk over to him. but he doesn’t. he grabs his freshly made coffee, stuffs his wallet back in his pocket and he walks out.

it wasn’t like he knew him anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for leaving kudos 💛  
> [+curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/gyeoulnim)


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